


The Adventures of Taeman & Ab-Boi

by parkjimincrushcollective



Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band), SHINee, SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen, Light Angst, crack adjacent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 04:57:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21314548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkjimincrushcollective/pseuds/parkjimincrushcollective
Summary: Making their way through the sea of bodies only a few steps at a time, the boys clutch onto each other, only inches apart now. Within seconds the space they left behind is filled by the mob of people encircling them, suffocating them. More airport security try to clear the way, but it is far too late to get them out of the swarm. It's getting harder to breath, to hear, to see, to do anything, but the members persist, no longer aware of where they are going, just that they have to go somewhere.“How does it feel to know your entire career was a lie?”Someone tosses a white powder into the crowd. Chaos erupts.--Alternatively: the TaeKai superhero au absolutely no one asked for.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai & Lee Taemin
Kudos: 9





	The Adventures of Taeman & Ab-Boi

It was a crisp spring morning in Seoul when they stepped off the plane. Ushered toward a side room by airport staff, the boys, much like a horde of college students dragging themselves to their dreaded 8am, wordlessly made their way down the maze of hallways, the chattering of security the only thing to cut through the silence. 

As they were herded along by their managers and a handful of security guards, they began to emotionally steel themselves for the barrage of cameras, signs, and screaming that had become such a familiar sight to them. Tired eyes glancing at one another in solidarity, their jetlagged faces hidden behind masks, at last they reached the final door that would lead them to the outside world. _ _

_ Here we go again. _

But as they neared the exit, it became clear that something was amiss. A member of the security team held a hand up, stopping them before they could pass through the last of the doors. Being held behind the final door wasn’t out of the ordinary; however, the concerned look on the guard’s face and the fact that their questions were met with an “unfortunately, we cannot disclose that information at this point in time,” keyed the group in that this might not be just a routine delay. 

The muffled chatter on the other side of the doors was definitively different from what they knew, what they had come to expect. This was much more animated, much more aggressive, much more _ unnerving.  _

Soon they were joined by ten more security guards and told to “please remain calm” and “we’ll try to get you out of here as quickly and safely as possible.” Surrounded by their own personal army of airport staff, security, and managers, the boys eyed each other apprehensively, and approached the door as it was pushed open at last.

The flashes of dozens of cameras blind them for a moment, temporarily disorientating the group as they are mercilessly pushed forward into the throng of people. What had once been a distant muttering is now deafening, the noise rising when the group is spotted, the crowd clamoring to be heard over one another. 

“What do you have to say about the allegations put against you?”

“Don’t you believe you would’ve had more success if you hadn’t stolen every word?”

“EXO, HWAITING!”

As they begin making their way through the mass of people, the members’ eyes widen in shock as their tired brains finally catch up and process the questions they’re suddenly being bombarded with.

“Why would you do something like this?”

“Exactly how many of your songs are plagiarized?”

“Would you like to take this time to come clean about any other offenses?”

“If you had never been caught, how long would you have kept this up?”

“Is your new album plagiarized too?” 

The group is now shrinking in on itself, trying not to get separated from one another as the crowd begins to push in around them. Looking at each other in confusion, at their managers in confusion, the boys have no chance to stop and ask what’s going on, getting shoved forward by their team.

“How could you lie to your fans like that?”

“Do your families know?”

“Would you like to formally apologize to your EXO-L?”

The path that normally would have been cleared is nowhere in sight. The security team ahead barely manage to free up space for them, the yelling of reporters and fans shifting into a dark rumble, individual words barely cutting through the cacophony of sound encompassing them. 

“EXO, WE ARE ONE!”

“How could you do this to us?”

“We already knew you couldn’t sing, turns out you can’t write your own shit either.”

“Fighting, EXO!!”

“Don’t you have any remorse for what you’ve led your fans to believe?”

Making their way through the sea of bodies only a few steps at a time, the boys clutch onto each other, only inches apart now. Within seconds the space they left behind is filled by the mob of people encircling them, suffocating them. More airport security try to clear the way, but it is far too late to get them out of the swarm. It's getting harder to breath, to hear, to see, to do _ anything _ , but the members persist, no longer aware of where they are going, just that they have to go  _ somewhere _ .

“How does it feel to know your entire career was a lie?”

Someone tosses a white powder into the crowd. Chaos erupts. 

* * *

Eyes flickering between the man in front of them and the clock perched on the wall behind him, the students count down the final few minutes of class as casually as they can under their teacher's watchful gaze. Finally, he calls for a quick break and they are able to break position, collectively exhausted.  _ More _ than exhausted if you ask Soomi, as she guzzles down the rest of her water like it's her last drink on Earth. 

“My feet hurt,” whispers Soohyun to Hyunseok, looking over at his best friend, face scrunched into a grimace from where he's sprawled out on the floor. Hyunseok nods back in understanding, about to reply with his own woes when he’s interrupted by the sound of their teacher clapping to get the class’ attention. 

“Okay, one last time from the top,” he states, to the dismay of the students, whose groans had begun the moment he had called them back to practice. “One more time before you leave.” Watching the reluctant shuffling of his students as they make their way back to their previous spots in the middle of the room, the man chuckles. “Oh, come on guys. What’s with all the grumbling? Just one more time!”

“You said that last time!” Soohyun and Hyunseok pipe up from the back, their eyes meeting in immediate satisfaction at their unintentional synchronization.

“Quickly now, get in your starting positions!” is the response from the front, ignoring the blatant jab at his teaching methods.

Eunjae finds his spot on the right side of the room, taking a deep breath to focus, determined to make this last run-through the best one. 

“I want you guys to go all out this last time. Really listen to the music, yeah? Try to make the movements match the emotions of the song. And please, take this seriously. I’m looking at you, Hyunseok, Soohyun,” the instructor says with a smile, glancing at the two troublemakers who at least have the decency to look a little guilty.

“It’s our last rehearsal before the performance on Saturday, so this is really the last full run-through until then! Okay, everybody ready? Here we go.” With a press of a button, the sound system comes to life, music pouring from the speakers.

The choreography ends with the students holding their final pose, breathing heavily as they wait for the last of the music to fade away. Once again their ears are met with the sound of clapping, albeit this time not from their teacher. Twirling around in sync, as though it were just as much a part of the dance as the rest of their performance, the students are met with a familiar figure leaning against the doorway. A beat of realization passes, and then the screams start.

“Taemin!”

With newfound energy that the teacher had thought he had extinguished, a hoard of six to eight years olds crowd around Taemin, who is quickly ushered into the room by many, surprisingly strong, little hands. 

“Hey guys! You should be really proud of yourselves. It’s looking really good!” he praises as he’s manhandled into the center of the room, simultaneously being badgered by the kids’ seemingly never-ending questions.

“Are you gonna teach us again soon?”

“Remember when you came and taught us “Ring Ding Dong,” can you teach us the dance to “Lucifer” this time?”

“Were we really that good?”

“Can you be our teacher?”

“I bet he wouldn’t make us practice until our feet fell off…”

“Your feet fell off? Lemme see! I wanna see!”

“Gahhh, get off, Soohyun! I was joking!”

“I gotta check! Gotta make sure you have both feet! It’s for the good of the performance!”

“Hey, Taemin oppa, how do you get your hair to look like that?”

He knows that the questions won’t stop until he answers at least one of them, so when the shy Jiwoo speaks up and asks, “Will you come to our final performance?” Taemin jumps to answer her. 

“When is it, Jiwoo?” He gently responds. 

“This Saturday! Please say you can come,” says the eight year old, prompting a chorus of ‘pleases’ with increasingly sweet addenda (“Pretty please?” “Pretty, pretty please?” “Pretty please with a cherry on top?” “Pretty please with whip cream  _ and _ a cherry on top?”) to be whined up at Taemin. 

“Hmmm, I don’t know… it all depends on your teacher over there,” he says, pointing at an exacerbated Kim Jongin. Hiding a smile, Taemin looks on as the herd of tiny humans immediately shift to surround Jongin, attacking him on all sides with the best puppy dog eyes on that side of the continent. 

Taemin’s ‘subtle’ smirk does not go unnoticed by Jongin, who has had the pleasure of dealing with the idol’s antics for well over a decade. Turning to his students with a smile of his own, he declares, “Of course he can come!”

A moment later, after countless promises that  _ yes _ , he will come to their performance, and  _ yes _ , he’ll help teach classes more often, and  _ yes, Soohyun, your new sneakers do look super cool _ , it’s time for the kids to go home, leaving the two best friends alone in the dance studio.

Jongin saunters over to lean against one of the barres lining the walls, an awkward silence settling over the room.

“I have about fifteen minutes before my next class starts walking in, so what’s up, Tae?”

“Oh, uh,” Taemin says quickly, eyes darting towards the clock on the wall, “well, nothing serious, I was just wondering if you were free to grab a coffee sometime this week?” 

Jongin responds with a raised eyebrow and pointed look at his friend.

Taemin continues, “It’s just, I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while, Jongin-ah! You’re always so busy at the studio… I would’ve texted you but I can’t seem to find my phone, so I just thought I’d stop by...” he fades off when the expression on Jongin’s face does not change. 

“We literally had dinner together last night, Tae.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t  _ talk _ talk. We just ate...” Taemin mutters, avoiding eye contact as he surveys the empty dance studio, seemingly more interested in literally anything other than the man standing next to him. Jongin notices and tries to catch his eye, but Taemin manages to evade him.

“Is everything okay, Tae?” asks Jongin, voice laced with concern.

“Yah! Am I not allowed to check in on my best friend? Is that a crime?”   


“Okay, okay, fine. I’m free Thursday after four. We can grab coffee then?”

“I think I can make that work,” Taemin says as he glances at the wall clock again, “Gahh, I wish I could stay for your next class, but I have to go. I have a meeting at SM in ten minutes.”

Now it's Jongin's turn to look away as the memories of his life before the incident five years ago come flooding back. The studio disappears from his vision as he's dragged back to before everything in his life had gone to shit.

_ Flashes of his members, of long, late-night practices with Chanyeol and Sehun, of performing a solo on stage. Laughing as Suho gets hit with a plushie. Modeling in photo shoots. Being nervous about his fashion show. Starting his acting career. Fighting with Yixing before he left for China. Yixing not coming back. Then, being surrounded at the airport, the headlines, with scandal after scandal being exposed, being disowned by the fans, SM kicking them out, of— _

Taemin puts a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from going any further. 

“I’ll see you Thursday for coffee, Jongin-ah.”

“Okay, hyung, see you.”

Taemin looks at the wall clock for a third time, and, realizing he’s running late now, he dashes out of the room and makes his way to the SM building.

* * *

It's not until a few hours later that Taemin is finally released from his cruel and unusual punishment: the stylists debating back and forth across the table over his next hair color for nearly three hours.

Mind still numb, Taemin makes his way down another long hallway to another long meeting where he'll have to sit through another  _ long _ conversation about something trivial.  _ Probably where they'll argue over the color of my shoes _ , he huffs. 

Drawing a blank on where the meeting was, Taemin goes to pull out his phone, only to find an empty pocket.  _ Oh shit, forgot I lost that. _ He was positive he had had it with him when he was in the studio yesterday. 

_ I still have ten minutes before the next meeting, maybe I should check— _

Just as Taemin speedily rounds the corner, now a man on a mission, he finds his path has been blocked by a wall that he promptly slams into. 

_ They haven't done any construction here recently, have they? I think I would have noticed. _

Stepping back, Taemin looks up and realizes that it was not, in fact, a trick wall, but an equally surprised Zhang Yixing.

“Hyungnim! What are you doing here?”

“I-I’m here for a meeting…” Yixing blinks a couple of times as if to clear his head, “I’m a producer on a new track that we’re trying to match with a group today. What are you doing here? And why are you in such a rush?”

“Oh. Well, I lost my phone and—”

Yixing giggles at this. “I see you haven’t changed, Taemin! Do you need any help looking for it?”

It’s Taemin’s turn to smile then.  _ Ah, he hasn’t changed either. Still as kind as ever. _

_ _ “I swear I’ve gotten worse over the years… this is my fifth phone in six months—my manager's gonna kill me if I lose another one. I was just gonna check the studio real quick to see if I left it there.”

“I’ll join you!”

Without missing a beat, Yixing proceeds to drag the other man back down the hallway he had come from and towards the studios, all the while engrossed in some story about this life-changing hotdog he'd had in L.A. that Taemin was only half tuned into. Upon reaching the studio in question, Taemin flits about the room, checking under desks and peaking in between the mess of recording equipment littering the space.

Casually fiddling with the soundboard, Yixing turns to look at Taemin from the other side of the studio. "So what have you been up to recently?”

“Huh? Oh, well I’ve been preparing for the next comeback—you know how it is at SM…”

“Yeah, yeah… I guess I do. That was a long time ago now…” Yixing shifts awkwardly at the uncomfortable silence that follows. “Hey... speaking of the past, have you kept in contact with my members? I know you were pretty close with Jongin-ah..."

Too preoccupied with the task at hand, Taemin answers, “Oh yeah, I actually just saw him today,” Moving to check the recording booth, Taemin continues absentmindedly. “We made plans to see each other this Thursday for coffee.” Glancing up at Yixing, Taemin notices the sudden gleam of interest at the mention of his friend and mentally kicks himself.  _ Crap, Jongin stopped talking to them for a reason. _

“Coffee? What time are you meeting?”

Looking up from where he was currently checking in between the couch cushions, he responds hesitantly, “Uh, like four-ish, I think?”

“Hmm, I can make that work.”

Taemin looks at him then, taken aback by his answer. Yixing’s shameless acceptance to a coffee date that he was  _ not _ invited to. 

“Ah, I’m not so sure...” he says, scratching at the back of his head.

“Where’s it at?”

“The coffee shop around the corner from Jongin’s favorite ramen place?”  _ Wait, why did I tell him that? _

“Great! I’ll see you Thursday then!” Yixing says with a smile as he leaves the room. Leaving Taemin to look at his retreating form.

_ Shit. _

* * *

The café is relatively empty when Jongin walks in, doorbell jingling above him, alerting the staff of his presence. As he walks to his usual spot in one of the back corners, away from peering eyes that at this point have died down to the occasional "hey, you look kinda like that Kai guy," Jongin checks his phone, prepared to find the usual "sorry I'm late!" text from the hot mess he calls a best friend.

Nothing.  _ Ah right, no phone. _ Figuring it might be a while, he switches over to some random, mind-numbing game his students had convinced him to download. Just as Jongin manages to get past level 12, ( _ What right does this game have, being this difficult anyway? _ ) he hears the tell-tale sound of the doorbell, and looks up to see not one, but two familiar figures standing in the doorway.

_ Yixing? Taemin, I swear, I will strangle you if this was your idea.  _ Jongin sinks down in his chair, dropping his head and mentally willing his body to become as small and unassuming as possible, but to no avail. Yixing sees the quick movement out of the corner of his eye as he scans the café and proceeds to tug Taemin in Jongin's direction. 

Quickly settling into the latter of the two chairs, which had  _ clearly _ been meant for Taemin, Yixing pulls out one of the menu cards and skims over it, seemingly oblivious to the harsh glare being sent towards them. After several uncomfortably silent minutes of Yixing going over the menu, he murmurs an "iced coffee sounds pretty good right now." Taemin, still standing awkwardly in front of their table, immediately seizes his chance to escape.

"Great! Well, you guys haven't seen each other in a while, so I'll go grab the drinks and give you a chance to catch up!" Speeding away, Taemin just barely misses the look of betrayal written all over Jongin's face.

Yixing gently places the menu back in its holder and studies his former group member. Watching as he fiddles with his phone, eyes flickering back and forth between the table and where Taemin was standing in line in irritation, impatiently waiting for his return.

“Jongin-ah.”

Jongin turns to look at Yixing then.  _ How can he look exactly the same? How can he sit in front of me like nothing happened?  _ He breaks eye contact when the memories threaten to overtake him. 

“How have you been?”

“Fine.”

“What have you been up to?”

“This and that.”

“Do you live around here? Taemin-ah said that this was your favorite café, so…”

Jongin goes back to playing on his phone, dismissing him. Yixing sighs. “Really, Jongin-ah? I don’t see or hear from you for over two years and this is how you act?” 

Jongin continues his silent treatment, though Yixing knows he has his attention. “I was seriously worried about you… we all were. No one knew where you were, how you were handling everything—you just… disappeared. I had to take to reading gossip columns to find out if you were even still alive.”

“Well I am. And I’m having to sit here and listen to this shit, because you coerced my best friend into bringing you along with him to our meet up. Besides, I’m not the only one who disappeared,” Jongin says with a pointed look, trying to keep his voice low enough that he wouldn’t disturb those around him, still clearly furious. “You left too, Yixing.”

“I left because I had to. And leaving is  _ not _ the same as just up and vanishing. Do you have any idea how scary that is? We thought you had been kidnapped, Jongin. We thought someone had come and taken you.”

“We, huh?  _ We? _ You keep saying ‘we’ as if you were even there,” mumbles Jongin.

“Yah!” Yixing slaps a hand on the table in front of him, startling Jongin into looking up. Holding eye contact for a solid five seconds, it’s Yixing who breaks it this time, as he takes a deep breath and looks toward the counter where Taemin is now ordering. “Does he know?”

“Does he know what?” Jongin huffs as his attention is once again on his phone. “That it was a bad idea bringing you here and that by doing so he’s lost his best friend privileges for the next millenia? Yeah, I’m pretty sure he knows…” 

“Does he know he’s like us?”

Jongin’s head snaps to look up at Yixing. “What... do you mean Taemin is like us?”

“He’s like  _ us _ .” Yixing says again, but this time there is a weight to his words and a spark of understanding appears in Jongin’s eyes. 

“No.”

“No? What do you mean ‘no’?”

“It’s—that’s impossible, hyung. Tae  _ can’t _ be like us.”

“But he is.”

“He can’t—” Jongin stops talking then as Taemin comes back to the table, balancing the drink holder in one hand, a bag of baked goodies in the other, looking very pleased with himself that he managed to not drop (or forget) any of them.

“Hey! I’m back! Whatcha guys talking about?”   


The two men eye each other from across the table, the near-telepathic connection forged over years of training and performing together still evident as they silently agree on what to say.

“Nothing.”

“The proper way to hip thrust.”

Jongin slumps forward, groaning as he rests his head in his hands, Yixing’s eyes widening in panic as he begins to resemble a sheep caught in headlights.

Somehow, their reactions go unnoticed by an oblivious Taemin, who is more focused on the fact that they would even be having this conversation when both of them are  _ well _ -versed in the art of hip thrusting. In an attempt to end the argument, he decides to solve their conundrum himself.

Still balancing their drinks and pastries, Taemin begins his demonstration, completely oblivious to the odd stares now coming from the other patrons. He narrowly avoids vibe checking a waiter as they try to dodge his outstretched arms, unbothered by the fact that he's just breaking it down in the middle of their local coffee shop.

* * *

Taemin walks back to his apartment, mind still mulling over the odd coffee date.

_ It was odd, right? There was an energy to it that was... off? I thought there would be some tension for sure, but it was like they were… I don’t know… keeping secrets or something. No, what am I thinking? Jongin would tell me. Maybe I’m just reading too much into this.  _

Unlocking his apartment door, it only takes him three long strides before Taemin is sprawled out on his couch, hand resting over his face, finally able to relax after what felt like forever.  _ Today has been a day _ , Taemin thinks before opening his eyes, scanning over his empty apartment. Blinking, once, twice, a third time, Taemin sits up, and stares at his no-longer missing phone, as it lays there innocently on his coffee table.  _ How? I'm sure I'd checked there... ah, whatever. _

Taemin sighs, shaking his head at himself as he picks it up and scrolls through the mess of notifications filling his lockscreen.  _ Geez, you lose your phone for three days and suddenly the whole world wants to talk to you. _ The most recent text is from Jongin, a very strongly worded threat from the looks of the preview message, probably regarding his role as unwilling accomplice to Yixing's plans. Vowing to cross that bridge when he got to it, Taemin unlocks his phone and opens his call log, only to find a long list of missed calls from his manager, make-up artists, choreographer—everyone he had enlisted in helping him find his damn phone. 

Moving on to his messages, a recent text from his manager catches his eye, the official writing a stark difference from the slightly more laid back style he's used to.  
  


from:  **Manager**

_ A situation has developed regarding one of your label mates, Kang Seulgi. You’ve worked with her in the past so it would be best if you kept a low profile for a while. _

_ I know that you two are good friends, but I need you to NOT get involved. _

_ I’m serious, Taemin.  _

_ The company has it covered, we don’t need another scandal on our hands. _  
  


Taemin quickly logs onto Twitter, anxious to find out what could possibly have been bad enough to have his manager texting him. Sure, Seulgi and him have done songs together, shows together. But it was made very clear that their relationship with one another was completely professional.  _ She's been in the industry long enough to know how these things work... she wouldn't be this careless with an  _ actual _ relationship... _

_ Fuck. _

There are pictures.

Shit, there are  _ a lot _ of pictures. Or, well, a lot of the same three pictures. Seulgi exiting a restaurant holding onto the arm of good-looking man, them walking into a well-known club, them getting  _ well acquainted _ in said club. 

Ever the supportive senior, Taemin opens up a new message box, loading up Seulgi's contact info and shooting her a text, reaching out in support. They've all had their fair share of controversies, and dating scandals are nothing new. Hopefully it'll just blow over.

What he doesn't expect is for her to write back so fast.  
  


from:  **Kang Seulgi**

_ Taemin I don’t even know what to do _

_ What even happened _

_ I’ve never seen that man in my life _

_ And I’ve never been to that restaurant _

_ Or that club _

_ I think the pictures might have been doctored _  
  


to:  **Kang Seulgi**

_ Doctored? But who would do that?  _

from: ** Kang Seulgi**

_ I talked to management and they promised that all the pictures would be down before it could become something, but all that’s happened is that they’ve spread _

_ It’s making international news _

_ And I’m already losing sponsorships _

_ Taemin what am I supposed to do?? _  
  


Desperate to do  _ something _ , Taemin texts his manager for help. The PR team has to be working on the situation, but the photos are still up when he refreshes his feed. If anything, they're gaining more traction.

After a few minutes of frantically pacing around his apartment, calling his manager only to go straight to voicemail, Taemin thinks  _ fuck it _ , and decides his best course of action is to go down to the SM building himself. Grabbing his coat, he rushes out the door, determined to find his manager, a PR officer, even one of the higher-ups, anyone who can tell him what exactly is going on.

* * *

The SM building at this time is winding down. There aren’t as many people wandering the halls, everyone having gone home for the day, but Taemin pays no mind to it, knowing that the PR team is always in, always ready to fight any scandal that may surface even in the dead of night. 

As he reaches the hallway in which the PR team are stationed, he begins to worry that maybe he was wrong, the PR team having gone for the night. That is, until he hears soft voices coming from the last door on the right. As he walks closer it becomes clear that they are discussing Kang Seulgi’s scandal. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all covered sir.”

“And the photos are still up?”

_ So they know… that’s good, they’ll fix this mess. It’s all a misunderstanding. SM is trying to get the photos down, and it’s all going to blow over just like I said it would. Seulgi has nothing to worry about,  _ Taemin thinks as he approaches the door. Just as he reaches up to knock on it, he hears something that makes him pause, hand frozen in place.

“Yes, and they’ll be up for another two days or so before anyone can even  _ think _ about getting past our encryptions,” the first voice states. 

“And if she doesn’t comply?” the person he assumes is in charge questions. 

“We’ll start leaking the other photos we have drafted up.” they reply, followed by the sound of papers rustling around, clearly being passed over. 

“Hmm, good. Oh, that one is quite—well, all I have to say is Seulgi has been quite a naughty girl... And if she still doesn’t go through with it?”

“Well, we have the male model we used, Oh Eunjin-ssi, on hand to give a statement about their secret romance, and if that doesn’t do it, we do have some here of her members as well.” From behind the door, Taemin's ears pick up on more rustling.  _ Just how many photos do they have? _

“Oh, that is truly excellent work. Who did the edits?”

“That would be Kim Seojung, sir.” another voice pipes in.

“Remind me to give him a raise. These are incredible! You can’t even tell that—”

“Yes, he’s quite the artist, sir. Very dedicated to his craft.”

“A pity we have to tarnish the name of such a bright young star,” a new female voice states. 

“Yes, yes, what a pity the girl ruined her own name,” chimes in another person.

“Lessons need to be taught. And I will  _ not _ have one of our most promising weapons go down just because of some silly, heroic fantasy this girl has,” comes the reply from the boss.

“Would it really be that bad if we just got rid of her altogether?”

“I’d rather not kill off the talent, Park.” 

“I never said kill… but would four not work as well as five?”

“ _ Five _ is the perfect number for sirens.  _ No one _ can withstand the draw of five.” the woman cuts in.

“All I’m saying is, is it really worth this much trouble?” questions a deep voice.

“I’m not wasting another super just for one of your ‘little experiments.’” the boss snaps. 

“I wasn’t suggesting—” the deep voice sputters, “Though, I wouldn’t be opposed to having another body to examine...” 

“Enough of this, I’m not giving you another one of my talents only for you to extinguish them with your  _ playing _ . How are the others coming along?”

“Well they’ve apparently been retesting, and found something interesting in WayV.”

“Who? I thought Winwin was a bust?”

“No, no, I think it was that Lucas kid?”

“Hah, we been knew…” someone says under their breath. 

“What was that?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing.”

“That’s what I thought. Apparently he has a high propensity for dream manipulation.” 

“How high are we talking?”

Enraptured in the conversation from the other side of the door, Taemin takes a step closer, only for his knee to crack at what is, quite frankly, the worst possible moment. The talking inside halts. Taemin’s eyes widen and he bolts away, just barely making a getaway as the light from inside the room illuminates the end of the hallway.

**Author's Note:**

> please feed us comments and kudos if you liked it. if not for us, then for park jimin... we crave validation... kthxbye


End file.
